


Semi-Charmed Kinda Life

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Serial Killer Jensen, bottom!Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen likes to lure hookers back to his place, fuck them and then kill them before his come has even had a chance to cool on their skin. He has a preference for teenagers with slim, lithe bodies. One night he picks up Jared, who is so gentle and whose smile is so sweet that Jensen can't bring himself to kill him. (from <a href="http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/4214.html?thread=687478#t687478"> this spn-masquerade prompt</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Semi-Charmed Kinda Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_masquerade. Thanks to all the wonderful people who left lovely feedback for me over there. Literally, everyone of them made my day ♥ ♥ and of course, thanks to the OP for such an amazing prompt, and letting me play with such a beautiful concept.

It’s always a gamble, hitting the streets this late. There’s hardly anyone working the corners, seeing as the majority of respectable prostitutes have found clients for the night. At this hour, it’s mostly junkies looking to swap sex for a hit of coke or 3ccs of heroin. No one worth his time.

But sometimes—sometimes Jensen finds exactly what he’s looking for. Long legs, and olive skin stretched tight over a prominent rib cage. Pretty pink mouths and boys with soft, silky hair that he can dig his fingers into. Jensen likes them young too—not worn out and jaded. He likes to fuck them hard, until they beg, not sure they can take anymore. And then Jensen likes to kill them. He likes to watch as they bleed out, onto his already blood-stained mattress. Shooting up doesn’t even come close to the high Jensen gets when he plunges the knife in.

Tonight, he’s almost given up finding exactly what he needs, which is a pity, really, because he’s juiced up. Got an itch buried deep in his spine that won’t be satisfied until he’s sated with a dead body underneath him. Until he’s scrubbing blood off of the cement floor of his apartment with bleach. 

Ritual purification.

Salvation comes to Jensen in the form of an underfed, bony kid named Jared. He’s not even sixteen. Doesn’t know enough to bargain when Jensen offers him $500 for the night. In fact, he looks relieved.

“Half-now, half when we’re done?” He asks shyly, thick Texas accent coming out as he plays with the hem of his too-tight, inside out shirt. Jared’s also got hints of fading blue dye in his hair and stretched out ears, plugged up tightly with what looks like onyx. Jensen appreciates that the kid clearly put a bit of effort before hitting the streets. He’s also pleased that Jared doesn’t have track marks down his arms. The kids who use never seem as surprised, don’t give him the visceral, panicked reaction that he drinks down like a can of 50¢ coke when he sinks the knife deep into their flesh after he’s soiled their bodies with his come.

Jared’s death, on the other hand, will be beautiful. Jensen can imagine it already. Brilliant, multi-faceted eyes going wide, pupils dilating even further than during his moment of orgasm. Skin becoming sweaty and gathering small, wet beads deep in the hollow of Jared’s throat as his heart flutters at a continuously increasing speed until it sputters out. Just like Jensen’s old Ford F-150.

He hopes Jared will gasp his name, as his mouth fills up with blood. Say Jensen like the prayer that it is. And Jensen will be there with him, holding his hand, and stroking his hair. Jared will die in his arms, just like all of Jensen’s boys before him.

Jared talks a lot, Jensen finds out, as they walk back to Jensen’s place with the promise of cash on the countertop. More than Jensen would like. He really doesn’t want to know about Jared’s dad getting blown to mostly microscopic pieces during the Gulf War, or about Jared’s mom, who’s got stage IV ovarian cancer.

“Jared, shut-up, I’m not paying you to hear your life story,” he says, after Jared starts going off about his younger sister. How it will be just him and her soon. How Jared’s dropped out of high school so that he can take care of his family.

Jared obliges. Tucks his bony fingers and wrists into his washed out, ripped jeans, and hangs his head.

Jensen feels like he’s just killed a puppy. It’s not the euphoric experience that he’d imagined.

“Look,” he backs up, missing Jared’s voice, “I didn’t mean to be a jerk. It’s just…hearing about your family’s problems doesn’t exactly get me hard, y’know?”

The smile that takes over Jared’s face makes Jensen’s mirror neurons snap to attention and smile back, for no good reason, except that Jared being happy seems to make Jensen happy.

Plus, Jared’s got the cutest dimples that Jensen’s ever seen. Jensen promises himself to at least take his time with Jared. He wants to see Jared’s face contorted as he tries to take all of Jensen’s dick, wants to see him blissed out later, after Jensen’s made him come, not once, but twice.

If he’s being completely honest, he’s not sure that he wants to watch the light disappear from Jared’s slanted eyes this evening. After all, he’ll only get that pleasure once.

Jensen offers Jared a soda once they get back to his place, which he drinks eagerly. It’s practically pornographic watching the way that Jared’s mouth latches on the ring of aluminum and then keeps swallowing. A single, carbonated drop leaks out, dribbling down his chin, and Jensen can’t help himself, he licks it up, until he gets to Jared’s lips and then bites down.

Before Jared’s even finished with the bright-red can, Jensen’s got him on his knees in the kitchen, his dick straining towards Jared’s wet, sugary mouth.

“Whaddya, say, Jared? Gonna start earning your keep, or what?”

Jared nuzzles into his dick then, palming at Jensen’s balls through his jeans. He thrusts forward, his cock causing Jared’s lips to blanch white with the impact.

Jensen does Jared’s work for him, unbuttons his jeans, and watches his dick pop out, no briefs to keep him tucked inside.

The skin on Jared’s face is smooth, no trace of a beard yet, so Jensen rubs his cock over Jared’s face before encouraging his mouth to open up with the push of his thumb.

It’s obvious by the way that Jared’s wide-eyed and choking around him that he’s never sucked dick before. That knowledge only makes Jensen push in further until he feels the back of Jared’s throat, buttery soft and pulsating against the head of his dick.

He holds Jared there, keeps him impaled on his cock, tears dripping down his face and onto the cold cement floor. Jensen only lets up when Jared stops fighting to breathe. Then he pulls his dick out, and lets Jared catch his breath, in heavy, labored gasps.

Jared’s shoulders heave, using his accessory muscles as he inhales, knees still splayed wide. He looks beautiful like this--wrecked because of Jensen.  
It’s enough—watching Jared’s lungs expand within his thoracic cavity, eyelashes wet, and looking up at Jensen, pupils blown wide—to make Jensen take his hand to his own dick and jerk himself off.

When he comes, it’s all over Jared’s face. Creamy streaks littering Jared’s high cheek bones, and eyelashes. Covering the mole on the left side of his face, and dripping down into his parted, red mouth.

“Fuck, Jared,” he says after he’s finished, legs giving out to the point that he slides down to the ground, back pressed against the wooden knife drawer. “That was perfect.”

“Yeah?” Jared asks, reaching up to wipe a strand of come off his face. Jensen stops him mid swipe.

“Leave it there. I like you all marked up for me.”

Once he’s regained his balance, he pulls Jared up off the floor and drags him back to the bedroom. He’s got knickknacks littering the wall, and he lets Jared play with them. Souvenirs from his past lovers. The ones who are buried in Jensen’s back yard, covered with lye. Not much grows out there.

“What do you do?” Jared asks as he unfolds an origami flower that came from the pocket of a boy named Matt. “Like, for a living?”

Jensen usually doesn’t let people touch his collection. He doesn’t answer questions either. So it’s a surprise when his mouth answers for him, “I sell cars. Used cars.”

“Huh. I could use a car. You know. If you ever wanted to trade for one. Don’t really got the money, right now.”

Jensen shrugs. “Got an old, beat-up Impala, if you want.”

The car’s not worth much, but it would suit Jared well. Give him enough space for his growing legs.

“Yeah?” Jared asks, smiling lighting up his face.

“Yeah.”

There’s no reason that he should be bargaining sex for cars, not when Jared’s in his room, and Jensen should be deciding whether he wants to go for the jugular or the hepatic portal artery that runs blood through the lower half of Jared’s body.

Instead, he doesn’t even want Jared on his bed. Doesn’t want Jared lying where countless boys have bled out. When Jensen does finally kill Jared, it will be special. Not routine.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Jensen says, when Jared hops onto the bed, and puts his hand on Jensen’s pillow, directly over where his knife lies, inconspicuous and harmless.

Jared’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You don’t want to fuck me?”

Any other hooker would have been out of there in two seconds. Taken the cash from its resting place on Jensen’s counter, with the promise to blacklist him for wasting their time.

Instead, Jared looks lost. Like he’s done something wrong.

It’s the sweetest thing that Jensen’s ever seen, and he decides right then that he wants to keep Jared. He doesn’t want anyone else to kiss Jared. Doesn’t want the possibility of anyone else harming his boy.

“Oh, I absolutely want to fuck you. I just want you to promise that you won’t go out on the streets looking for money. I’ll pay you, and you go back to school. You take care of your family, and afterwards, you come here to me. You don’t fuck anyone else, Jared. That’s the deal.”

The hint of a smile graces Jared’s face, and Jensen knows he’s said the right thing.

He fucks Jared on the floor then, licks him open, and watches his hole stretch as Jensen lines up his dick and pushes inside, inch by inch.

Jared’s hot and wet, practically slippery as Jensen’s dick pulses out precome in time with his thrusts in and out of Jared’s body.

Once Jared adjusts to the feeling of Jensen inside of him he winds his long, muscular legs around Jensen’s back, digging his heels into the dip of Jensen’s spine.

Jensen’s never felt this connected, this madly possessive about someone in his entire life. That he doesn’t want to spend an hour, a minute, where he’s not in Jared’s body, feeling Jared’s pulse jackhammering. Knowing that it will keep beating because of him.

Jensen walks Jared home after they’re done. Jared’s a wreck. Dried come starting to flake off his face, and he’s sure to have Jensen’s come leaking into his boxers too. Jensen takes pleasure in knowing that he was the one to debauch Jared.

They kiss on Jared’s porch, chastely, with the sweetness of boyfriends who haven’t traversed the line of more than over the clothing touches. Not even the hint of tongue.

“See you tomorrow?” Jared asks, eyes hopeful. As if he’s afraid that Jensen’s changed his mind.

“No later than seven.”

The smile that crosses Jared’s face, like he actually can’t wait for Jensen to fuck him again, makes Jensen’s heart twitch in his body. This boy is going to be the death of him.

Finally, Jensen lets Jared out of his sight. Watches the way he limps slightly, the muscles of his ass remembering the way that Jensen’s dick had felt inside of him.

Jensen calls in to work then; he’s got too much to do, can’t be bothered to spend a day on the lot, trying to get rid of the ‘95 Mustang or the ‘11 Denali. No, with Jared coming over, he needs a new bed. Needs to bleach his house from top to bottom, until there’s not a trace of blood anywhere.  
From now on it’s Jared and Jensen. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll still need to kill. The itch is still building at the base of his spine, winding it’s way up his spinal cord, unsatisfied, unwavering.

But he won’t let it be Jared.

No, if it comes to that, he’ll make Jared kill him first.


End file.
